


An Amazing Blur

by loudspeakr



Category: Glee
Genre: First Kiss, First Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt finally has him, but Blaine blows it before it's even begun. Can he fix it? One-shot. Very much fluffy. </p><p>[repost from FF.Net]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kurt

Kurt had waited, and now he was done. If he wouldn't show up, then he shouldn't have gone to the effort of making such a spectacle of himself during lunch today.

Kurt's gaze went to the end of his street, still an empty intersection, albeit the occasional passing car. But none of them were the car he was looking for, a black Volvo C30. And then as if the world knew of his misery, the heavens opened and began to pour with rain.

It's the perfect movie anti-climax, thought Kurt. Just a boy standing on a doorstep, watching through the pouring rain for something, anything, to come along.

And earlier had been the perfect movie romantic proposal. Kurt felt his lips curve at the memory.

_Blaine!_

_Hi, Kurt. May I sit..?_

_Of course! How was French?_

_Uh, yes. Good._

_Did you get your test back?_

_Um, yep. B+. Could be better, but it's okay... Kurt, I'm happy._

_That's great, Blaine. I'm proud of you._

_No, Kurt. I mean, I'm_ happy _._

_Err, yes. Okay, that's nice, Blaine._

_I'm happier than I've ever been, and I think-_

I love you, Kurt finished in his mind. Oh, how many times had he dreamed of Blaine uttering those three simple words to him? But he reprimanded himself for losing his nerve now: that would never happen! Blaine would never be interested in him, Blaine was perfection and Kurt was nothing compared to this man.

_It's because of you._

Oh... Kurt paused. This wasn't an "I love you", but this sure looked like something leading  _to_  that. No, he should stop this before someone says something they don't mean.

_Blaine..._

And then Blaine was saying all of these wonderful things, saying that Kurt made him happy, that he missed him when he wasn't around, that he'd caused Blaine's heart to ache, which only went away when they'd meet for their daily coffees, that this aching definitely wasn't a coincidence. Blaine was stumbling his way through the confession, almost without breath, almost as if he couldn't stop the flow of love spilling from his beautiful lips, and though Kurt was barely listening, too stunned to see true, he was vaguely aware of the way Blaine was looking at him now. There was some kind of silent wonderment in his gaze, and it was different, and it wasn't bad at all. In fact, it felt really nice.

_Blaine, what are you saying to me?_

_Will you be my boyfriend, Kurt?_

Kurt's heart jumped at the memory of his voice, even though it was merely a re-creation in his mind. His heart pounded when he remembered how Blaine's hand traced invisible lines down the plump of Kurt's cheek, leaving a warm blush in its wake. He remembered how Blaine had - quite adorably - stammered his way through asking Kurt to have dinner with him at Breadsticks that night, the very same place where a spark between them had made itself known as Blaine sang  _Silly Love Songs_ with his Warbler friends to Kurt and his own friends.

Not quite so silly now, thought Kurt. And he peered out through the rain again one last time.

There was still no car.

Kurt finally relented, and closing the front door behind him, the porch light turned off.

* * *

 

**_Later..._ **

**Knock, knock.**

The night had well and truly fallen, the swaying trees outside casting dim shadows on his window shades, and Kurt woke to the sound of a fist on the door. Bleary-eyed and vaguely annoyed, he turned his gaze to the clock on his bedside table.

Two-thirty-six in the morning, thought Kurt. What is this?

Not wanting to wake Burt, Carole or his snoring step-brother, Kurt very quietly tried not to stumble up the stairs, successfully manoeuvring the steps, and very slightly pulled back a curtain to take a peek.

What-? What is he doing here?

Blaine had finally arrived.

What do I do? Kurt couldn't comprehend what was happening. The entire day had been a blur, an exhausting, confusing, amazing blur. But Blaine hadn't shown up when he said he would, and Kurt was tired of broken promises. Of course he was sad - he'd wanted this with Blaine for so long, and it wasn't fair for him that false hope was blindly given to him - but he also wasn't surprised by this. Nothing had ever gone the right way for Kurt. Karofsky was just another link in an ever-growing chain of disappointment, and Kurt was entirely used to it. By now, Kurt had accepted this to be his life.

But this was an unexpected development. He'd never imagined Blaine would eventually turn up after what he'd done earlier. But he had, and Kurt would have to deal with this.

Reluctantly, Kurt opened the door for Blaine, who stood there with a wide-eyed, almost bewildered look on his face. The rain had soaked through his usually sleek locks and his 'formally-casual' attire. But much to Kurt's dismay - who had forever hated the 'wet dog' stink of one who had walked through the rain - Blaine's 'wet dog' smell was anything but disgusting. It was intoxicating, of all things.

But Kurt was still upset, so squaring his shoulders, he said,

"Hello, Blaine."

Blaine's words came out in a hysterical rush. "Kurt! I'm so sorry, I don't know-"

"Oh, but I do." Watching Blaine's dark, heavy eyebrows lift at his interruption, Kurt exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding and continued. "You didn't want to come. It's fine, Blaine, it really is. A text would have been nice, but it's okay. I understand."

"But, Kurt-"

"No, really I do."

Blaine's brow continued to furrow, his face a picture of confusion. Kurt's voice was quiet, almost lost in the falling rain, so quiet that Blaine almost missed the words. But he heard them, and they didn't make any sense. Then his head began to shake itself, side to side, slowly, and Blaine's hand - a hand Kurt had for so long wanted to touch and hold with all its warmth - reached up and toward Kurt. But Kurt evaded the attempt of contact and dropped his gaze to Blaine's rain-splattered shoes.

"Kurt..."

"I'll see you on Monday, Blaine." And Kurt went to close the door.

Thinking it was all over, that Blaine would leave, trudging out to his car in the soaking wet and driving off without another word, Kurt didn't expect a hand to stop the door from shutting and locking him out. He hadn't seen the hands coming forth to capture the sides of his face, or the intense gaze - still confused, yet determined - to pierce the resolve Kurt had steeled himself into holding. He wasn't expecting the small comical moment of colliding noses with Blaine and having the short hitch be overtaken by a kiss he'd been dreaming about ever since the first time he'd shared his first Dalton coffee with Blaine, Wes and David.

Kurt didn't see the softness of Blaine's lips tentatively caressing his own, or the unusually wet but delicious taste of Blaine's tongue finding Kurt's amongst all of the mental chaos.

And when the pair eventually parted, Kurt hadn't expected the cliché of seeing stars after such an  _experience_. But he was, and soon they faded into just one: Blaine.

And despite the intimate moment they had just shared, Blaine continued to look sheepish, embarrassedly stuffing his hands into his pockets and shuffling his feet on the concrete of Kurt's front doorstep.

And the sight of Blaine's vulnerability was enough to make Kurt smile.  _Finally..._

"Would you like to come in, Blaine?"


	2. Blaine

_Geometry homework due tomorrow, red shoulder bag thrown across his torso, Warbler rehearsal after school, sleek chestnut hair, French test results today, Politics next, and passing notes with... pursed lips, lips, lips. Blushing cheeks, fingertips. His hand, just there... oh._

Blaine was sure he was going insane. For him, it was yet another busy whirlwind of school events at Dalton Academy and Blaine, ever the model student, had planned to stay on top of things.

What he hadn't planned for, however, was his mind going entirely out of control; losing track of upcoming tests and crucial rehearsals, sleeping through his alarms and almost missing classes, all but floundering his way through these important events in place of filling his mind with the wonder that was someone's bright, blue eyes.

What-? But why? It made no sense to Blaine. Kurt was his  _friend_. Kurt was someone who had come to him for help, for protection, for  _courage_. Kurt trusted him, and he wasn't about to completely destroy their relationship, whatever the hell it was... or was evolving to be.

But lately, sitting together in Politics with his best friend was beginning to feel more like a date.  _A date._ The phrase sparked something in Blaine's mind.

Suddenly he could see the two of them sitting at Breadsticks, oodles of spaghetti between them, laughing with Kurt about the atrocities of the world around them. Blaine could see a flickering candle reflected in Kurt's eyes and himself fighting the urge - and eventually giving in - to lean across the table and...

Perhaps it wasn't such a preposterous idea, after all, thought Blaine, as his teacher handed him his test result slip. The paper revealed a B+, which would usually have Blaine ecstatic over the great mark, but today had opened Blaine's eyes to boundless new possibilities, and how could he concentrate when he had things to do, people to pursue?

And so this was the state in which Blaine found himself sitting next to Kurt in the cafeteria. The sight of Kurt absent-mindedly moving his food around his plate, lost in the pages of his latest copy of Vogue, had - for want of a better and less ironic phrase - Blaine's heart racing in his skin-tight jeans. Well, school pants. And they weren't skin-tight, exactly.

Oh _, what this boy does to me!_

"Did you get your test back?" Kurt's eyes flitted up to briefly meet Blaine's before looking down again to read.

"Um," Blaine let out a surprisingly shaky breath. "Yep, B+." I was happier about you, though, Blaine added mentally. "Could be better, but it's okay."

He saw Kurt offer him a friendly smile, and go back to reading.

Now, do it now! thought Blaine. Now, before he starts reading again! "Kurt, I'm happy."

Kurt's eyes met his again. "That's great, Blaine. I'm proud of you."

"No, Kurt." He'd misunderstood. "I mean, I'm  _happy_."

"Err, yes." Blaine was beginning to feel a tinge of frustration coming from Kurt, whose sacrilegious Vogue-reading time was being disrupted. The feeling of being a nuisance to Kurt was somewhat misplaced, however, because this was the first time  _ever_  that Blaine had been the recipient. "Okay, that's nice, Blaine."

Despite the fire beginning in Kurt's expression, Blaine continued. "I'm happier than I've ever been," The sudden stuttering in Blaine's tone easily smothered Kurt's building frustration, so he looked up and finally met Blaine's trembling gaze. "And I think it's because of you."

Kurt's eyes widened slightly. "Blaine..."

And then everything to do with Kurt that had passed through Blaine's head for the past few days came tumbling out and he couldn't stop it, and for most of the part, Blaine had no clue what he was saying, but he knew that every word he spoke to Kurt's amazed face was the truth. And he himself could feel the love dripping from every syllable and he hoped Kurt could feel it, too. He was rambling, he knew, but Kurt needed the truth and everything beyond that because that was what Kurt deserved.

Then Kurt finally spoke, "Blaine, what are you saying to me?"

The older boy now smiled, and with an air of conviction, he asked, "Will you be my boyfriend, Kurt?"

* * *

 

**_Later..._ **

Blaine had booked a table at Breadsticks for seven o'clock, and he couldn't breathe. Blaine was looking at his collection of ties nestled in his closet, and he still couldn't breathe. Blaine even tried playing guitar to soothe himself, strumming a little before giving up entirely because, yes, he still wasn't breathing properly.

He was panicking for no reason, he knew, but he had  _every_  reason to be nervous. This was a  _first date_  - which was crucial in every relationship ( _relationship,_ Blaine paused on the word) - and he wanted there to be so many other dates to follow, and so tonight had to be perfect. Better than perfect. Just like Kurt was.

And despite his very best attempts to calm himself, his heart continued to pound away without any sign of stopping.

He skipped his way down the stairs and headed into the kitchen. Maybe one day he would invite Kurt over to bake or something, and maybe they'd end up just throwing flour and beaten eggs at each other until the sun set. Maybe after they'd cleaned themselves, they'd cuddle in front of the TV and watch  _The Devil Wears Prada_  or whatever other movie Kurt would want to want because, damn it, Kurt could watch whatever the hell he liked because Blaine would do anything to make him happy.

Blaine poured himself a glass of apple juice, and felt his eyes flutter closed. Opening them again, he realised he was exhausted. The non-stop activity of the last few days had left him spent, what with all of the tests and studying and Warbler rehearsals and -  **sigh**  - so much time spent with Kurt.

He clambered back up the stairs, crawled to the middle of his bed and tucked himself in. A quick nap, was Blaine's last thought, and to the memory of Kurt's singing  _Blackbird_ , Blaine fell promptly asleep.

* * *

**_Later..._ **

_His eyes are so beautiful. I know I can't stop talking about them or looking at them, but they are. And his cheeks, they're so pink and beautiful, too. And I love his hair, it's perfect. And his fingers. I wonder what they'd look like twined with mine. And-_

A loud car horn outside startled Blaine from his slumber. His room was in darkness, but there was enough light for Blaine to see that he was still dressed in his Dalton clothes. Why? Then he remembered his day, how he was in French class and how he was thinking about Kurt, and how he'd decided to ask Kurt out and how he'd bared his soul in the middle of the cafeteria...

Blaine whipped his head around and looked at the clock on his night stand. Rubbing his eyes, he saw it. Two-eleven in the morning!

No, Kurt! Please don't hate me, thought Blaine. He scrambled out of bed and started for the phone atop his dresser, evidently planning to call Kurt.

But then he paused, and without missing a beat, thoughts of Kurt's eyes and cheeks and hair and fingers fluttered back into his mind. Surely Kurt would forgive him, if he did it right, surely. He'd only just found him and won him. Blaine wasn't about to lose him. Not now, not ever.

So he hurriedly dressed in the ash-grey suit draped across the foot of his bed, plucked a light green tie from his tie rack and, securing the tie around his collar, he dashed down the the stairs, his car keys jangling loudly in his grasp. Opening the front door, Blaine smelled the rain before he saw or heard it. It was bucketing, the street a slick, glistening scene.

But despite the very real possibility of looking like a mess (of which Kurt would never approve in the first place) when he'd arrive at Kurt's house, Blaine bounded for his car and, with hair more dishevelled than usual and rain-smelling clothing soaked through, he drove straight to Kurt's house and briskly jogged up the cobblestone path to the front door.

The nerves, without Blaine's notice, had returned, but he couldn't focus on that now. He just needed to make things right again.

With the picture of Kurt's smile in his head, he knocked on the door. A moment passed, and he could see no movement from within the home. Should I have called first? thought Blaine. They're probably asleep - is this rude?

Blaine threw a glance at the street behind him, the slick road spotlighted by street-lights, the rain relentlessly pounding on the pavement. It was a perfect night to go dancing in the rain, and Blaine could serenade Kurt (though he could imagine Kurt complaining about the cold and wet, the accurate depiction of his best friend making Blaine smile) and it could very easily be one of the most romantic things he'd ever done in his entire life.

_Singing in the rain, just singing in the rain, what a glorious feeling..._

Blaine had been waiting for a few minutes now, and still Kurt hadn't answered the door. Maybe I should leave, thought Blaine sadly. Maybe he'd missed his chance, because surely he couldn't redeem himself after this. Kurt wouldn't have a word of it.

This can't be it, he thought, as his fingers twitched from the cold. A shiver sent itself up Blaine's spine and the very tempting warmth of his Volvo made itself known in Blaine's mind, but he wouldn't move.

Kurt was more important than being warm; Kurt  _was_  warmth. Kurt was the sun, he was happiness personified. He was pure love, through and through, and Blaine would never give up on love - he had never in the past, what with all of his struggles and setbacks, and he definitely wasn't going to start now.

And then as if on cue, the door creaked open and there Kurt suddenly stood.

"Hello, Blaine."

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first fanfic _ever_ , a little first date thing (or, should I say, almost first date) between one of my favourite couples of the show.
> 
> Originally posted on [FF.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7305671/1/An-Amazing-Blur) in August, 2011. You can find my original Author's Notes there, too, which admittedly is just a big lovefest about Darren Criss, let's be honest. Heh.


End file.
